


In the Desert of Space

by Rosalita



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: Unending, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-12
Updated: 2010-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalita/pseuds/Rosalita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron takes his anger out on Daniel, but Daniel doesn't mind. In fact, he encourages it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Desert of Space

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lilblckdress ficathon. Takes place during _Unending_

Mitchell tried hard to ignore the banging on his door as he surveyed the wreckage of his room, looking for something else to break. He wasn't satisfied with the destruction by half, but sadly, there was nothing left to destroy and the banging was getting louder. He could hear Jackson's muffled voice calling his name.

"Go away, Jackson," he yelled. The answering silence made him think that Jackson had actually gone away, but snick and whoosh, the door opened and there stood Dr. Daniel Jackson, opener of the Stargate, former Ascended Being, scourge of the Goa'uld and the Ori, with that dopey open-mouthed look that made Mitchell suspect brain damage from one too many zat blasts.

"How the hell did you get in here? That door was locked!"

"Oh," he said, stepping inside and looking around at the damage. The door whooshed shut behind him, and he held up something that looked like a car lock remote. "Vala," he said, shrugging as if that explained everything, which it did. "Are you okay?"

Yep, brain damage. "No, I am not okay. In case it has escaped your attention – and I know I've mentioned this before – we are stuck on a spaceship in a time dilation field. And it doesn't look like we're going to get out of it any time soon."

"Sam will figure it out," he said, and Mitchell could tell that he really believed it. He had complete and utter faith in Sam's ability to find a way to get them out of this mess.

"It's been over a year."

"I know," Jackson said softly. "You just need to have a little patience."

Patience? "Easy for you to say. You've got the Asgard knowledge base to play with. Not to mention having Vala to play with."

Jackson's look was sharp, but his retort was at least somewhat restrained. "You know, if you'd contribute to solving the problem rather than just moping around -"

Mitchell didn't let him finish his sentence. "Get the fuck out."

Jackson just stared at him for a moment, shook his head and muttered "Fine." He turned to the door and stood in front of it, but it didn't open. He waved his hand in front of the control panel. It still didn't open.

With a sheepish look, he said apologetically, "I think it's stuck."

"You don't say." Mitchell reached out to hit the comm switch. "This is Mitchell. My quarters door is stuck. Jackson's here with me. Could someone come and get him out of here before I strangle him?"

Rolling his eyes, Jackson pulled the remote out of his pocket and aimed it at the door. Before he could screw up the door any further, Mitchell's hand shot out and grabbed the device from him.

"I think this caused the problem in the first place. What is it anyway?"

Jackson was still staring at this empty hand. He closed it and frowned. "Electronic lock pick."

"And you were just wandering around with it in your pocket?"

"I took it away from Vala the other day. Guess I forgot I still had it."

"And you were just walking by my quarters?"

"Yeah." Jackson cleared his throat and rather obviously changed the subject. "Well, looks like we're stuck here until someone comes looking. Might as well start cleaning up this mess."

Mitchell watched him for awhile. He moved around the room righting things that had been knocked over and separating stuff into piles of what could be salvaged and what could not. He was thinking about throwing himself into the unsalvageable pile. Instead he said, "No one answered. Do you think they even heard us?"

"Sure. Even if they didn't. They'll come looking for us eventually."

"Great. It's not enough to be stranded on this goddamn ship, now I'm trapped in here with Dr. Optimism. Don't you ever get discouraged?"

Pausing in his cleaning efforts, Jackson adjusted his glasses, then rubbed at the corner of his eye. It was something he did sometimes when considering what he was going to say, Mitchell had noticed. "You know, the last time I was asked a question like that, I lied." His eyes went out of focus momentarily and then snapped back. "Yes, I get discouraged," he said quietly. "It's not easy maintaining this level of optimism, but it beats sulking."

Bristling, Mitchell spat, "Fuck you, Jackson, and leave my stuff alone! You break into my room -"

"What was I supposed to do? Ignore it when I walk by and hear things crashing around in here?"

"Yes, goddammit!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't."

Mitchell's laugh sounded ugly even to his own ears, but he was too angry to rein himself in. "No, you can't, can you? You can't leave anything alone. You couldn't leave that communications device alone, and you alerted the Ori to our presence. You couldn't lose your precious Asgard library, so we couldn't abandon ship. We're stuck like this because of you."

Mitchell was all but snarling in Jackson's face, but Jackson remained calm.

"You want to blame me for this? It's okay. You can. If it makes things easier for you. Better that than wallowing in your self-pity."

Dismissing Mitchell, Jackson turned to get back to his work, but Mitchell grabbed his arm. Sometimes he forgot that Jackson had been trained by a special ops colonel and a Jaffa, so he was surprised when he found himself flat on his back on the broken mattress with Jackson looming over him, no longer looking quite so calm. Mitchell tried to push him off and remembered the other thing he sometimes forgot. He was damned strong. And he wasn't budging.

"Get off me!" He threw a punch at Jackson's head, but he caught the flying fist easily and pinned it and Mitchell's other hand down to the mattress.

Bucking and twisting, Mitchell did all he could to get the other man off him, but couldn't dislodge him. "Dammit, Jackson, when I get up, I'll-"

"You'll what? Take your anger out on me?" Jackson suddenly let him go and pulled back until he was on was on his knees, straddling Mitchell's hips. "Go ahead."

It was then that Mitchell realized that Jackson was hard. The bulge in his BDUs was obvious and a wet spot was forming on the front of his trousers.

Mitchell reared up, grabbed a handful of Jackson's t-shirt and growled in his face, "Are you sure you know what you're asking for?"

Conveying a look that spoke volumes about Mitchell's stupidity, he said slowly and distinctly, "I'm asking you to fuck me. Hard."

"What makes you think I'd be interested?"

"You never been exactly subtle with your flirting." Jackson raised one eyebrow and looked rather pointedly at Mitchell's crotch, which was hard as his was. Mitchell shrugged and hauled Jackson in for a brief, rough kiss, grinding their lips and teeth together before pushing him away.

"Take your clothes off."

Jackson was naked in seconds. He started to move back to the mattress but was halted by Mitchell's command.

"Don't move. I want to look at you."

Through furtive glances in the shower room, Mitchell knew Jackson had a great body, but he wanted to get a good, long look at it. He took the man in from his red, puffy lips made that way from kissing to his hard cock that was just begging for a kiss of its own.

Maybe later. Jackson had come here looking to get fucked, Mitchell was certain of it. There was no way he'd just happened to be walking by. Mitchell had chosen quarters off the beaten path; Jackson would have no reason to be in this part of the ship unless he'd come looking for Mitchell.

That fact pleased him way more than it should. It should have been pissing him off that Jackson thought he could cheer him up by offering sex. And it should really piss him off that it was working.

He wasn't the only one who was pleased. He'd expected Jackson to squirm a little under his scrutiny, but if anything, he'd gotten even harder. A small drop of liquid was forming on the head of his cock. Mitchell would have loved to lick it off, but that's not what they were here for.

"Hands and knees."

The quickness with which Jackson obeyed surprised Mitchell. Maybe he got off on being ordered around, too. He wondered if Vala ordered him around.

What was he thinking? Of course, she did. And speaking of whom, he wondered what the deal was. Jackson and Vala had been practically joined at the hip for months, now suddenly Jackson was in his quarters waving his ass at him. "So, you and Vala have a fight?" he probed.

"No, we didn't have a fight. Now are we doing this or not?

Figuring that was all the answer he was going to get, he said, "Yep, we're doing this."

He crawled around behind Jackson. What a view. That gorgeous ass just waiting for him to take it made him so hard it damn near hurt. He whipped his t-shirt over his head and tried to remember where the lube had been before he trashed the room.

Drawer next to the bed, which was now halfway across the room. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Jackson looked like he was getting ready to come help.

"Nothing. Don't move, dammit. And spread your legs wider."

He found the lube and returned to the bed. "Now, where were we? Oh, yeah, I was getting ready to take my anger out on you by fucking you through the mattress." With one hand, he stroked the firm ass that was presented to him while he got Jackson ready with the other hand.

Two lubed fingers pushing in wrung a moan from his partner. "I think you're enjoying your punishment a little too much, Jackson."

"Christ, Mitchell, you've got two fingers up my ass; do you think you could call me Daniel?"

"Christ, _Daniel_, I've got two fingers up your ass; do you think you could call me Cam?"

Jackson huffed out a laugh then winced. "Easy. It's been a while."

"Yeah? How long?" The answer might tell him if those rumors about Jackson – Daniel - and General O'Neill were true.

"None of your business. Now, will you get on with it?"

The rumors were true, he figured, but it didn't much matter, did it? They were here and O'Neill was in Washington, and Mitchell figured that whatever relationship he and Daniel might have had had been over long about the time Daniel had been itching to get to Atlantis. Pulling at the buttons on his pants, he wondered if Daniel were as pushy with O'Neill as he was with him. Having seen them together on a few occasions, he figured the answer was yes. He slicked himself up quickly and lined up and pushed in slowly, letting Daniel adjust at his own pace.

Daniel's own pace turned out to be pretty fast and with an exasperated "For crying out loud, Cam!" he pushed himself back onto Mitchell's dick.

Gasping, he grabbed at Daniel's bucking hips as heat surrounded him. "Fuck! I thought you wanted me to take it easy!"

Daniel just groaned.  
Mitchell pulled at his hips until he had Daniel at the angle he wanted, withdrew a little and shoved back in, hard, nailing Daniel's prostate as he did.

"Bullseye," he crowed when Daniel trembled and cried out. "Not bitchin' now, are you?"

"Nuh. Oh, god, yeah," was Daniel's only answer.

He didn't think either of them would last long. Daniel was hot and slick and tight around his cock and those little hiccuping sounds he made whenever Mitchell hit him in the sweet spot were working on him too.

Daniel had snaked a hand under his body and was working himself. He was shaking and Mitchell could tell he was getting close. He held his hips as tight as he could and sped up his thrusts. Daniel grunted and his body tensed, and there was a moment where nothing happened and then he was coming, the contractions of his ass milking Mitchell's dick until he, too, tumbled over into orgasm.

When it was over, they both collapsed to the bed, breathing heavily.

Daniel was the first to speak. "Jesus," he said.

"Yeah," Mitchell agreed. He rolled off Daniel and looked around for something to clean up with. He settled on the sheet that lay on the floor and wiped them both off, then, as Daniel didn't look inclined to move settled back down on the mattress by his side.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, there was a pounding on the door. It was Vala. "Daniel? Cameron? I'll have you out in a moment. I just have to synthesize another pick!"

"Make one that works properly this time," Daniel shouted back.

"Is she going to kill us?" Mitchell reached his hand out and fished around until he snagged his pants.

"Nah, she'll probably want to watch next time, though." He pulled Mitchell's pants out of his hand and threw them into a corner. Then he rolled Mitchell on top him, diving in for a kiss and sliding his hands down Mitchell's back to cup and squeeze his ass.

It felt really good and Mitchell wondered if Daniel were exclusively a bottom with men or if he'd be inclined to fuck Mitchell, since there was apparently going to be a "next time." He raised himself up on his arms so he could look at Daniel's face.

"So what is this about?"

"It's not about anything. I like having sex with men, and I wanted to have sex with you."

"And that's okay with Vala?"

"Sure."

"Why do I feel like I've been set up?"

Daniel just grinned and continued his slow exploration of Mitchell's body. "You're not pissed off anymore, are you?"

"Not right now, no."

"Okay, then mission accomplished."

Before Mitchell could ask what the hell he meant by that, Vala was back and pounding at the door.

"Daniel, I'm back! I'll have you out in a jiffy!"

Mitchell settled onto the body beneath him as the door snicked, whooshed, and opened. Vala's only reaction to the tableau in front of her was an appreciative gasp. Mitchell nuzzled into soft skin of Daniel's throat.

"So, do you think she would agree to a threesome?"

"I'm sure she would."

 

 


End file.
